Chapter Text
Christophe
I often find myself sympathizing with pieces of garbage; chip bags, soda cans, cardboard boxes...it's not it's fault that it's, well, garbage, so what did it do to deserve to be thrown away? It's only ever created to hold or accompany something else, something with the fortune of having been made an object of value, and then be discarded once it's no longer needed.
Garbage is the very proof that karma is nonexistent and the world is a cruel, faithless place. Too often will those deserving of retribution never face it, and will the good and innocent be left to suffer.
Only the blissfully ignorant have the privilege of faith. Only those leading pleasant, stable lives can owe it all to their ever-merciful god, who sees the goodness within and grants them happiness and prosperity. Even the most foul of individuals can look at their wonderful lives and think that, to deserve it, they must be doing something right.
Garbage is neither good nor evil. A piece of garbage is not sentient; it's incapable of making decisions that might determine the outcome of it's existence. And yet, it is created for the most menial of purposes, and met with the most pitiful of fates.